


How The Hamadryad Caught A Thief

by theauthorish



Series: Haikyuu Tales [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-19 01:49:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22236640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theauthorish/pseuds/theauthorish
Summary: Shigeru stood for a moment and let the sun warm his skin, trunk and branches, let the light soak into his leaves and hair, and wondered at the thief-- why had he bothered returning the pelt?What a baffling sort of criminal.
Relationships: Kyoutani Kentarou/Yahaba Shigeru
Series: Haikyuu Tales [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1581058
Comments: 12
Kudos: 97





	How The Hamadryad Caught A Thief

**Author's Note:**

> Told you there would be more! I have one more tale after this, so stay tuned! I hope you like this one just as much as you did the first!

* * *

Many years ago, when the world was a different place, magic ran rampant. The creeks and oceans were filled with mermaids and serpents and young gods; the plains and mountains shook beneath the feet of powerful beasts we no longer know the names of, and the very dirt thrummed with power ripe for use by every living creature who knew how to call for it; in the skies soared birds of colors unimaginable, whose songs were sweeter and more delicate than spun sugar, who brought blessings and curses both to those deserving.

In that time, the forests were sacred places, and each section of wood was ruled by a hamadryad who kept order and peace for the creatures in his care. In return, the creatures protected the dryad’s tree. There was one such hamadryad by the name of Yahaba Shigeru, who has a story to tell us-- shall I tell it?

Shigeru’s corner of the wood was a small one. It was quiet and serene, far from any human settlements. Most days, Shigeru did as he pleased-- of course, there were always minor disputes to solve, care to provide… but more often than not, there was peace, which meant his time was his own.

One day, as he was perched on the highest branch of his tree (for any curious souls, it was a zelkova tree), there came a call from below. Shigeru knew the voice to belong to a young faun named Kunimi, so he walked along the length of his bough and hopped lightly off the edge, landing softly on the grass below.

“Kunimi,” he said, more than a little surprised by the visit. Kunimi was the sort of creature who avoided any form of unnecessary exertion. “Is there a problem?”

As if he were already exhausted, Kunimi heaved the response, “Kindaichi’s pelt is missing.”

“What?”

Kunimi merely gave Shigeru a flat look, which was fair. Shigeru hadn't needed an answer anyway; his hearing was impeccable, after all, and Kunimi knew it as well as Shigeru himself did.

“Where  _ is _ Kindaichi?” Normally, it was Kindaichi who went and did things for Kunimi, not the other way around. This was an entirely unusual occurrence, so Shigeru’s curiosity was more than warranted, he thought.

Kunimi sighed. “He has been turning his cottage upside down looking for it. He swears he left it outside last night to dry, after the rains the past few days… but when he went to don it this morning, it was gone.”

Shigeru hummed. “So you think it has been stolen?” Shigeru said ‘you’ as opposed to ‘Kindaichi’ because suspicion simply did not come naturally to Kindaichi. He was a good creature… too good, sometimes.

“Why else would I come?”

Shigeru acknowledged this with a nod of his head. In this instant, there wasn't much he could do about the loss, but he could ask some of the other beings in his domain to keep an eye out, and he could certainly do a little investigative work himself. “Thank you for telling me, Kunimi. I will do what I can.”

“Thank you.” With that, Kunimi dipped his head in a bow of sorts before turning and going on his way. Shigeru watched his figure fade into the distance for a moment, and then turned to his tree. He had some work to do, it seemed.

/////

By the time night fell, Shigeru had enlisted a number of the wood’s inhabitants as lookouts. There was no need to go out of their way, he’d stressed, but it would help him greatly if they could pay a little extra attention to their environment and, for the shifters, their pelts. They agreed easily, and Shigeru expressed his gratitude before moving on.

Now, as a hamadryad, there were a number of things he could do that few of the others in his care could; one such thing was his ability to communicate with the plant life. The good news was that Kindaichi’s cottage had a lush garden, and the wood around it, too, was well cared for. Despite holding no responsibility over it, Kindaichi liked to water them all, fertilize them, trim them as needed… he was truly too kind, but in this case, it made the search for his pelt easier, certainly. Properly looked after plants were always more helpful than those forced to struggle.

Shigeru approached the cottage itself, first, to alert Kindaichi to his presence. He’d hate to spook him.

However, his knock went unanswered, and Shigeru realized the wolf-shifter must have been out. Where was anyone's guess, but Shigeru had a feeling that wherever Kunimi was, that was where Kindaichi was too.

Well, not that that was any of his business.

Shigeru walked over to the clothing lines strung up between the roof of the cottage and a nearby oak. The oak was an old one-- gnarled and ancient, and though Shigeru could feel its consciousness when he sought it out with his magic, it was faint and vague. It was unlikely to have been alert enough to be of help to Shigeru, even if it would have cooperated.

It sensed him, and Shigeru felt the warm pulse of its greeting. He returned it, and then pulled away from the connection.

That was a little disappointing, but there were others. The grass beneath the soles of his feet, for example. The blades tickled between his toes, as if asking for his attention. He smiled and gave it.

_ A pair of footprints, heavy, careless… brimming with coiled power. He’d come from the east, headed north… had paused and doubled back--  _

Probably for the pelt, Shigeru noted. So it hadn't been planned, really. A whim? A change of targets, perhaps, if he’d meant to steal one to begin with.

\-- _ and then there was a change. Feet became paws, two became four, there was fur and claws, and all that power came forth in an explosion. The creature-- a wolf, now, thanks to Kindaichi’s pelt-- leapt out into the night. _

Shigeru blinked away the remnants of the sensations the grass had left, sent along his gratitude through their bond before he freed himself of it entirely.

It was rare to find a shifter who could simply take on any shape (provided they had a pelt). They didn't have an official name or anything, but the forest-folk had taken to calling them skindancers or will-shifters. Neither were particularly accurate, but they worked fine enough. 

It would be even harder to track him down, him being what he was. He could be any animal at all. Who was to say he didn't have other skins or cloaks to use?

Shigeru grimaced to himself, and then went to the flowers in their window boxes. He stroked their petals gently with his fingers, felt them preen as he latched onto their auras. 

He lifted his hands away from them and asked his question.

_ A surprisingly gentle touch, a soft grunt of praise for their colors. A buffet of wind-- once, twice.  _

_ The cloak being shaken out,  _ whispered one pansy. The others murmured their agreement.

_ A low growl of a wolf-- not their owner, not; though he was wearing their owner’s pelt. And then he was gone. _

Shigeru thanked them.

_ The vines, the vines,  _ chanted the flowers.  _ The vines touched him. The vines know his shape. _

Shigeru thanked them again, pulsed admiration and pleasure through to their consciousness. They hummed, and they slipped out of his awareness as easily as the wind through their stems.

He sighed. There was still much to learn.

The vines were next, of course. After this, he vowed to go home and rest for the evening, leave the rest for tomorrow’s Shigeru to worry over. He had certainly done plenty-- it was more tiring than one would expect, hiking back and forth across the forest to talk to the different folk who could help him.

He stretched his magic out a third time, brushed gently against the wispy lines of the creepers that climbed and dangled from the tree trunks like curtains. They answered his greeting happily, sweetly, and when he asked, eagerly offered him what they had gleaned.

They had brushed against the thief when he had been human, thankfully. Gods knew it would not have been much help to learn what he was like as a wolf. Humanoid forms were much more distinct. 

_ Tall, but not taller than Shigeru, no. He was broad-shouldered, thick with muscle. Powerful, so powerful-- his every movement exuded a feral strength, a wild, vicious sort of grace, if it could be called that. His hair was short, cut close to the scalp. His eyes,  _ the vines crooned,  _ they were lined with kohl, dark and rich. We tasted it _ .

Shigeru pulled away with a murmur of gratitude.

There it was again.  _ Power _ . Was he really so strong that it seeped from his pores like another sort of magic?

Shigeru supposed that was really of no importance, in the end. He had a height, a build, even a few identifiable details like his hair and kohl-ringed eyes. That was more than he could have hoped for.

/////

When Shigeru returned to his tree, eyes drooping despite his best efforts to remain awake, there was a nightingale perched on one of his branches, singing a soft lullaby.

As he approached, it twittered at him, and he gave it a tired smile. “Hello, songbird. Will you be serenading me tonight?”

It chirped.

“Ah, I hope that was a yes. I could use your song tonight,” Yahaba said, a hand on his trunk. Merging forms was a simple enough task, but when he was exhausted, he was liable to do a bad job of it-- Watari once laughed for a week when he’d forgotten to merge his left arm with the rest of him. It had frightened some of the young ones too.

He mustered up all his concentration, urged his flesh and blood to revert to wood and sap and leaves.  _ Reunite _ , he thought.  _ Become one being once more _ .

Inside his own self, his beating heart replaced by the softer, rawer conscience trees had, he felt things differently. The lilting notes of the nightingale’s voice were a faint background noise that, for all its softness, sent reverberations through his wood. The wind tickled at his leaves and his boughs, rustled them together, and he reveled in it-- in the taste of the breeze that his human body could never truly experience.

He let his mind slow, let it meld into the deeper web of magic and life that connected all in this forest, until he was but a part of a whole instead of only himself, single and separate. It was a sensation he valued like no other; there was something so inexplicably lonely about being in his human form, as opposed to being constantly in tune with everything else around him.

That was the last thing Shigeru recalled thinking before he found himself asleep.

/////

The dawn brought with it a surprise unlike any other.

Shigeru had barely emerged from his slumber, stepping out from bark and trunk and roots, when there was a soft blue glow filling the clearing he called home.

“Watari,” Shigeru complained. “Tone it down, please.”

“The sun is rising anyway, Yahaba,” the will-o-wisp replied, though nevertheless, he dimmed his light, because he was a good friend despite his and Shigeru’s jokes to the contrary. “You wouldn't have noticed it once the daylight was bright enough.”

“If you mean that odd trance your light evokes, you know I remain unaffected.” Shigeru scowled even as Watari smiled ever wider, feigning innocence. Shigeru knew the other was picking a fight on purpose, maybe in some misguided attempt to wake him up. Still, he went on, “It is simply too early. I had hoped not to have to face light of any kind until absolutely necessary.”

What you should know about Shigeru’s clearing is that in the center of it, there lay a large, smooth boulder, the top almost perfectly flat. Creatures whom Shigeru helped sometimes laid offerings or gifts there, as did the occasional human, as an exchange for safe passage-- it seldom happened anymore, as the old ways were slowly but surely fading out, but Shigeru didn't mind. He had never needed their gold or their sake, though he had always appreciated it.

It was towards this great stone that Watari jerked his head. “Look,” he said simply.

Look Shigeru did, and what he saw…

“Kindaichi’s pelt,” he muttered, as he came close enough to recognize it; the hue of the fur, the immaculately cared for lining… other than the mud the thief hadn't bothered himself to scrub off, Shigeru would know it anywhere. “Did you--”

Watari shook his head. “Not me.” He floated towards Shigeru, frowning down at the fur in his hands. “I was passing by on my way home when I saw it.” He shrugged. “I figured you would want to know right away.”

Shigeru nodded, fighting back a yawn as he pulled the pelt into his arms. He would wash it himself-- he knew well enough how to care for it-- and then return it to Kindaichi before noon came.

“Thanks, Watari,” Shigeru said, as the yawn he’d battled so valiantly finally slipped out from his clutches anyway, into the open air. “I should get this clean before I give it back.”

“Of course. Good night, Yahaba.”

“Good morning,” Shigeru corrected absently, ignoring the frown it earned him. “Rest well, friend.”

“I will.”

Watari left. Shigeru stood for a moment and let the sun warm his skin, trunk and branches, let the light soak into his leaves and hair, and wondered at the thief-- why had he bothered returning the pelt?

What a baffling sort of criminal.

/////

Shigeru knocked thrice on the small wooden door and was pleased to find Kindaichi at home today, even if he looked a little worse for wear. The anxiety for his fur was understandable-- it was a big part of what made him what he was, so it was no surprise if it had kept him from sleeping or relaxing at all. Shigeru knew that were he in Kindaichi’s place, he would have been in a far more sorry state, in any case.

With a smile, Shigeru held the pelt aloft like a present. “It was on the offering stone,” he explained, delighting in the way Kindaichi’s expression shifted from confusion to shock to pure, unadulterated joy. 

“Kunimi!” the wolf called, to a lump of blankets on the bed. “He found it!”

There was an unintelligible grumble from the mound of fabric, and Shigeru barely managed to repress his snicker.

“Thank you,” Kindaichi breathed, and suddenly he looked a lot less… tense. His muscles weren't drawn so taut anymore, ready to fight or flee at a moment’s notice.

Shigeru’s smile softened. “I didn't do much. I tried, of course, but this morning before I could even use what I’d learned, Watari pointed it out to me. I think our thief himself returned it.”

A furrow appeared between Kindaichi’s brows. “But why would he--”

“ _ Yuutarou _ .” Kunimi appeared in the doorway, lips pursed. “Stop thinking so hard. I want to sleep.” He only bothered to dip his head in acknowledgement of Shigeru, nothing more.

Shigeru would normally have felt offended, but right now, he was far more amused by Kindaichi’s reaction to Kunimi’s use of his first name-- he had gone stiff as a rod and redder than the wild berries that grew so rich around their wood. “I-- ah. Thank-- thank you, Yahaba-san!”

Shigeru waved and turned to leave, the grin slipping from his lips. Kindaichi’s pelt may have been found, but Shigeru had a feeling this thief wasn't quite done with things yet. 

Unsure of where to go next, Shigeru decided that what he needed was a good long drink from the stream-- it hadn’t rained in too long, and he had been putting off a proper watering longer than he really should have. Oikawa-san would lecture him for it if he found out, Shigeru was sure, although Oikawa himself was not one to talk. He was only in any state to function because Iwaizumi-san kept him so well.

Yes, the stream was probably a good idea. After all, Shigeru didn't have an Iwaizumi to save him if he fell ill.

/////

Shigeru’s strides were long, and he made it to the body of water quickly. There, he knelt on the bed and cupped his hands in the clear water, watching it flow over his palms and fingers for a moment before lifting it to his mouth. He repeated this a number of times until he felt his roots stop calling for a drink. That was better.

There was a rustle of feathers behind him, and Shigeru drew the back of his hand across his chin to wipe away what had dripped, turning to greet the newcomer with a grin.

It was a swan, but its eyes glinted with something like intelligence beyond a mere bird-- a swan maiden then. (Shigeru always had a half a mind to ask why their race was dubbed maidens, when there were many men among them too, but there was really no point; the humans had given them the title, so it hadn't been up to them at all.)

“Hello,” Shigeru said, waving one hand.

The swan shifted in response.

Its feathers ruffled in a gust of wind that wasn't there, the swan spreading its wings as it grew, grew, grew, beak and neck and bones all rearranging, morphing into something new, something  _ human _ .

In seconds, a man stood before Shigeru, feathered cloak draped across his wide shoulders. His skin was a deep, golden tan, his eyes a shade of hazel like amber resin-- like they held something immortal in them, maybe, or like they’d captured something fresh that would eventually become eternal. They looked bottomless enough to drown in; for just that second, Shigeru felt like an ant about to be swallowed up and frozen in time, in this moment.

He blinked at Shigeru, raised an eyebrow at him for gawking, and the spell was broken. Shigeru shook his head to clear it-- what had that been about? 

The swan maiden stooped to drink from the stream, and then rinsed his face after, scrubbing at his cheeks and eyes with the freshwater. Shigeru noticed that the water dripping from his chin and cheeks was tinted gray-- like it had been mixed with dirt.

Huh.

He rose, gaze flicking to Shigeru briefly before he turned away again. “What?” he growled, with a voice as rough as he looked. Other than the feathered cape, his yukata was thin and threadbare, the hems fraying by his sleeves and by his feet. His limbs were, now that Shigeru was paying attention, mottled in bruises new and old, scratches and abrasions too. He was dusty, bare feet covered in grime-- which made sense; if his face had been dirty, why wouldn't the rest of him be? His hair, cropped close to his scalp, was dark and snarled, with leaves and odd bits of twigs snagged in it.

Was he really a swan maiden? The few Shigeru had met had always been graceful, dainty things, with impeccable hygiene and manners. This man was none of that.

“I  _ said _ ,” the swan said, narrowing his eyes (they didn't look quite as deep anymore-- had Shigeru imagined it earlier?). “ _ What _ ? What do you  _ want _ ?”

“Nothing. My apologies,” Shigeru said, finally snapping out of his daze. He dipped a shallow bow.

The swan snorted at him, folding the cloak carelessly and spreading it across a low-hanging tree branch. He reached for his obi, surprisingly nimble fingers undoing it with little trouble. “Are you going to keep starin’ at me, dryad, or are you going to go on your way?” There was a threat in every syllable, like the wrong answer would end badly for Shigeru.

Shigeru almost retorted for no other reason than he felt challenged somehow, and he never knew how to do anything but fight back when pushed-- but then the obi came off, and the swan began to slip the yukata from his shoulders...

Shigeru felt heat flood his face, because why on earth had he been watching the man undress? Why hadn't he turned around yet?

Speaking of which.

Shigeru twisted around, pretending not to hear the swan’s derisive chuckle. If he was still blushing, no one was around to see, so what did it matter?

It was only later that night, when a lovely woman with alabaster skin and tearstained eyes knocked on his trunk, pleading for help finding her feathered cloak, that Shigeru realized he had met his thief, and, unawares, he had let him go.

/////

Just like before, the cape turned up on the offering stone in the dead of night, when Shigeru had let himself sleep. Though he’d stayed up well into the wee hours of the morn, waiting for the criminal to show, it was all for naught. He had dozed off for only a few minutes, but when he awoke, the item was there, returned, and the shifter who had taken it was gone.

You and I would likely have been frustrated by this point, but Shigeru was not. He had lived a long time, by our standards, (though among his kind, he was still considered quite young)-- he knew impatience would bear no fruit, though he was determined now more than ever to catch this thief, and he knew he would need to gather information.

Shigeru first needed to see if the shifter continued with his pattern of steal one day, return the next, so he did nothing to hinder or hunt him down-- instead, he went about his usual business. He solved little quarrels, checked the small wards he’d put up around their wood, talked to his friends for a while and chatted up the forest inhabitants.

And around the same time of day as he’d gone the day before, Shigeru made his way to the stream. He didn't make himself known, this time, hiding atop an older maple tree (with its permission) further up the bank.

The animal that came was a crane, today. It shifted as it reached the edge of the water, and soon, there stood the same man Shigeru had encountered yesterday. He did much the same as he had then-- stripped himself of the cloak and his yukata (the very same he’d been wearing the day before; did he only have the one?) and then waded into the water to bathe. The stream wasn't particularly deep here, but Shigeru knew that if you went downstream a little longer, there was a tiny pool where the water rose to just about Shigeru’s waist. He assumed that was where this thief was going.

He didn't follow, of course. He felt ashamed enough having watched him walk there,  _ fully naked _ , like some sort of pervert, but really, Shigeru had no choice! He needed to keep an eye on this thief so he could put a stop to the stealing. That was all.

(He did not acknowledge the fact that he thought the shifter, whatever his name was, had a back corded with muscle like steel, had smooth golden skin that rippled with every movement.)

Shigeru was curious about the bruises and the wounds though. Where did he get so many? How did he get them so often?

In time, the shifter reemerged (Shigeru kept his eyes trained on the cloak where it hung) and dressed himself once more. He pulled the cloak on, shifted, and then flew off-- where to, Shigeru didn't know, and he didn't feel much like following, either.

Shigeru would come back the next day, he decided, just to be certain. If the shifter was here again, he would be able to form a plan.

/////

There was an old water god who ruled the pool, though few knew of him. He rarely ever showed himself, content to go unnoticed as he maintained his home.

Technically, the pool was just outside Shigeru’s jurisdiction, falling right in Oikawa’s territory instead-- but if Shigeru called, he would come. He always had. 

So Shigeru clambered down from the tree, and after thanking it for its graciousness, he made the short trek there, kneeling to swirl his fingers in the water. “It’s been too long, Sensei,” he said to the ripples.

“It certainly has been, Shigeru-kun.”

“Sorry,” Shigeru chuckled. “I keep promising myself I’ll visit but--”

The god hadn't yet revealed himself, but Shigeru knew that if he had, he would have been waving a hand in dismissal. “That isn't of any importance, Shigeru-kun. We can discuss it another time.”

The water god’s name was Irihata, and he was an old, old soul-- he had once been powerful, when the stream had been a gushing river with rapids so harsh they could crush a full-grown horse with ease. But that had been long ago. The landscape had changed with time and nature’s wishes, and before long all that had been left of the once roaring current was this peaceful little pool and the stream that fed it.

Shigeru offered an apologetic smile. The god would see it, he knew. He saw all that reflected in the water’s surface, if he so chose. “I would appreciate that very much, Sensei.”

“What did you need to ask of me?”

“Only about the shifter that comes here.”

“Ah.” There was understanding in Irihata’s voice, and suddenly, he was there, standing on the flat mirror of the water as if he weighed no more than the petal of a flower. “Kyoutani,” he said, and Shigeru blinked before realizing that must have been the shifter’s name. “What about him?”

“He has been stealing, Irihata-san,” Shigeru said, voice stern. Then he sighed. “He always returns the pelt a day later, but…”

Irihata sat down then, cross-legged, so that he could be at eye level with Shigeru. His expression was one of disappointment. “The boy does it for a good cause, but I had hoped he would at least ask permission,” he muttered.

Shigeru blinked. “You knew?”

“I did,” confirmed the god, heaving a sigh himself. “He never divests himself of the pelt here, of course, but I guessed that the skins weren't his from what little he has told me about himself.” He shook his head a little sadly. “Besides, a shifter of his kind gathers pelts slowly; he has come here in too many different forms for one as young as he is.”

Shigeru wasn't entirely sure what to make of that, since he himself had never met a skindancer until he’d unwittingly crossed paths with this thief-- Kyoutani, as Irihata called him. He decided to change tack. “You mentioned earlier that he had a good cause, Irihata-san,” Shigeru said. 

The god nodded in response. “So I did. What of it, Shigeru-kun?”

“Would you tell me what that is?”

“That depends.”

“On?”

Irihata fixed him with a level stare. “On what you would do with the knowledge, Shigeru-kun. I know you have your job to do here in this forest; I know you only want to alleviate the fears of those in your care. But I have made a pact with this young one, and even had I not, he too, is only looking out for others in his care.”

Shigeru’s answering grin had a bit of edge to it when he said, “And just what do you think I would do to him, Irihata-san?”

Irihata didn't so much as flinch. “Come now, Shigeru-kun. We know you share Oikawa’s ruthlessness, and his fierce loyalty to his own.” 

This was true, Shigeru had to admit. Oikawa had been his teacher, after all; had shown him how to properly fill the shoes of his predecessor and adjust to his new obligations. As a result, he shared many of the same beliefs as Oikawa held in regards to his patch of forest and how far to go to protect it-- which was to say, as far as necessary. 

Irihata continued, “I shan’t tell you unless you swear not to turn the knowledge against him.”

“You know I cannot promise you that. Not when I don’t know what I’m agreeing to,” Shigeru replied, smile softening.

Irihata matched his apologetic smile with one of his own. “Then it appears we have reached an impasse. I am truly sorry I cannot help you, Shigeru-kun.”

“As am I. Thank you, Irihata-san.” Shigeru stood and offered the god a bow. 

The god acknowledged it with a nod, and then he was gone.

/////

_ For others _ . That's what Irihata had said. Though the old god probably hadn't noticed the small slip, Shigeru certainly had-- it was how Oikawa had trained him, after all. 

Shigeru could understand why Irihata was hesitant to tell him; Shigeru could quite easily track down these ‘others’ if he had a mind to, and he could use them as leverage, but…

He didn't  _ want  _ to. The more he mulled it over, the more he found himself curious about Kyoutani-- for whatever reason, he was being forced to use pelts other than his own, and instead of doing the simple thing and stealing one and keeping it, he returned whatever he’d taken by the next day.

Surely he knew he could get caught that way?

So why do it?

Shigeru made a noise of frustration. He hated not understanding, and he couldn't understand any of this. There had to be a way to find out what, exactly, Kyoutani was doing with his borrowed skins without making an oath with Irihata-- Shigeru trusted the old water god to many lengths, but he never,  _ ever  _ signed a contract he hadn't read all the terms of. It was too risky, in this world.

Shigeru was sprawled lazily across the offering stone, waiting for the thief himself to appear. He briefly considered just outright asking, but… he doubted he’d get a real, honest answer. Why would he?

But he needed to do something. He could hardly just let this shifter do as he pleased. Whether he returned the pelts or not, it was unsettling Shigeru’s wood, and anyway, who was to say that the pelts wouldn't come to harm? The wounds that littered Kyoutani’s body were telling-- of what specifically, Shigeru was not entirely sure, other than it was quite possible for the skins to get damaged, and it wouldn't be Kyoutani who would ultimately pay the price of being skinless.

No, that would be one of Shigeru’s charges.

There was a rustle of foliage before him, and from the treeline, there emerged a wolf pup-- with the crane cape clutched between its teeth. 

Shigeru blinked at it as it dragged the pelt closer, struggling to haul what was likely twice its size. Shigeru snapped out of his shock and crossed the clearing until he was before it, bending to help.

The pup growled.

“It’s all right, little one,” Shigeru assured, smiling. He didn't move to take the cloak from him, though. “You were bringing it to that stone, weren't you?”

He pointed to the offering stone, and then looked back to the pup. The pup seemed to understand him well enough; it barked once as if in agreement, tail wagging behind him.

“That's my stone. This is my home,” Shigeru added. “I am that tree, over there.” He gestured at it. “You can give me the cloak instead, so you need not carry it so far.”

The pup yipped, but did not hand over the cloak. Instead, it began walking again, the poor crane’s feathered cape dragging against the dirt and soil behind him.

Shigeru sighed. Well, he had hoped to save himself a little trouble cleaning it later, but the pup looked so pleased with itself that Shigeru had not the heart to attempt stopping it any further. He retreated to the stone, waiting patiently for the pup. Occasionally, when it slowed or struggled with the cloak, he called out encouragements.

Finally, the pup reached him, and Shigeru beamed. “Well done!” he cheered, ruffling the pup’s fur. It barked and licked his hand. He chuckled. “Very well done. I’m sure the lovely crane-woman will be very happy to have her cloak back.”

Shigeru knelt and took the cloak, and this time, the pup let him do it. It barked at him again.

“I know, I know. Here, see?” Shigeru laid out the cloak on the offering stone, and the pup gave a few more pleased barks before scrabbling with its paws at Shigeru’s leg. “What? Do you want me to carry you?”

More intense scrabbling. That was probably a yes, wasn't it? Shigeru carefully slipped his hands around the wolf pup and lifted it up, sitting himself on the stone (careful not to rest on top of the cloak). He set the pup in his lap, and it immediately stepped off to the side nearest the cape, examining it as if to ensure Shigeru hadn't damaged it.

It yipped again, which Shigeru took as an approval. He was proven right when the pup curled up on his lap. “Hey now,” Shigeru said, laughing lightly. “Won't someone come looking for you?”

He received only a yawn. Ah, well. Maybe this would get his question answered.

Shigeru began to stroke the wolf on his lap gently, humming quietly to himself-- some old lullaby about growing strong and bearing good fruit, he didn't really remember all the lyrics. In time, the puppy fell asleep, and Shigeru remained carefully still so as not to wake it-- him?

Come to think of it, Shigeru didn't even know its gender, and it was far too late to check seeing as to do so, he’d have to wake the poor thing. He wondered how far it had travelled to return the cloak, and why the shifter himself couldn't be bothered to do it. Why send this little creature to do something so much easier for a human form?

/////

The moon was beginning to sink lower in the sky, the sun climbing up to take its place, when Shigeru was snapped out of his daze by the sound of a low howl nearby.

The pup on his lap awoke slowly, stirring gently before pushing itself to its feet and shaking out its fur. 

The howl sounded again, closer, louder.

The pup echoed it, but otherwise did not leave Shigeru’s lap. If anything, it huddled closer for warmth, lying down once more and nuzzling its head into Shigeru’s belly. He laughed. “That tickles, young one. You’d best stop it.”

The howl sounded once more, and this time, a dog emerged from behind the trees-- its fur was a sleek black, shining in the moonlight. Its body was strong, broad, like only a hunting dog or a guard dog could be, with powerful legs made for sprinting and chasing, with jaws and teeth for snapping prey in half.

Its eyes were a stunning amber.

Shigeru knew by that alone, that this was his shifter. 

Kyoutani growled at him, a rumbling threat. It was at that that the wolf pup leapt down, finally, and growled back. It let out a series of barks, too, and Shigeru wished he could speak dog, that he might know what was being said. Was the pup… defending him?

Maybe he should speak up. “He was making sure the cloak got to the stone safe. Wanted to be sure I hadn't harmed it somehow when I set it atop the flat of it,” Shigeru said, smiling. “Though why he chose to take a nap once he was up here, I don't know.”

Kyoutani grunted at him, and then grabbed the wolf by the scruff of its neck. He gently tossed the pup in the direction of the woods, barking after it. It left with a whimper.

Shigeru raised an eyebrow when Kyoutani was facing him again. “I didn't do anything to him, by the way. You seem aware that I'm the dryad of these woods, you must know that what magic I have does not extend to matters such as constraint. I could not hold him down with anything but my own body.”

Kyoutani shifted then, bones and body rearranging until he stood before Shigeru, glowering. “I know,” he grunted. A beat of quiet. “And I suppose you're going to try to do that with me?”

“I’m not entirely certain yet,” Shigeru answered honestly. He truly didn't-- did he want to try and incarcerate this man, this thief? He had caused Shigeru quite a bit of trouble, after all; the crane maiden was still with Watari, inconsolable and waiting for Shigeru to bring back her cloak as promised.

But then again, if he was really just looking out for his own… how hypocritical would it be for Shigeru to find fault in him? Shigeru would likely do the same for his own charges, should he ever have to.

“What the fuck does that mean?” Kyoutani snorted, looking wary and ready for a fight, stance strong and stable, fists loosely clenched at his sides and at the ready. Shigeru wanted to laugh. Did he really think Shigeru would just attack him? A dryad who used his words as weapons, who at most could dodge and bind an opponent-- at possible cost to himself, no less-- against a man who clearly knew his way around a fistfight? No. Shigeru may have liked to argue, but he wasn't an idiot.

“It means what it means,” Shigeru replied, shrugging. “What else  _ could  _ it mean? Do you not know basic Japanese?” He couldn't resist adding a little snark at the end, and though Kyoutani bristled, he didn't retaliate. Shigeru sighed. “How about you tell me  _ why  _ you’ve been stealing pelts from the creatures in my care?”

“Why should I?” Kyoutani shot back, folding his dog skin over one arm.

Shigeru raised an eyebrow. “Because you’ve been  _ stealing _ them. I am in charge of this forest, and I cannot let you wreak havoc as you like.” 

There was a pause. “Fair enough.”

“Besides, I might be able to help you, and your adopted pup there… are there more like him?”

Kyoutani squinted at him, as if he couldn't quite believe the offer. Shigeru felt a little bit offended; did he really seem so unkind?

“I don't need it,” he snapped, voice sharp as a whip.

Shigeru crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. He despised pointless stubbornness. He was offering the help freely, and here he was being scorned. For what reason? It was obvious Kyoutani needed it. “Don't you? You're littered in bruises and cuts old and new, not to mention you’ve been stealing all this time for their sake-- how the pelts help you, I have no clue, but clearly you need them, or you wouldn't go through the trouble of taking them.”  _ And if you need them, why return them _ , Shigeru wanted to ask, but he didn't.

“I’ve got it  _ covered,  _ dryad,” Kyoutani insisted, teeth gritted.

“I somehow doubt it.”

“Perhaps you should mind your own business.”

“This  _ is  _ my business.”

“ _ No, _ it  _ is not _ .” Kyoutani had taken several prowling steps towards Shigeru, and though he was shorter than the hamadryad by at least three inches, he seemed menacing.

Predatory, Shigeru thought. 

It did make sense-- you see, dogs may have been domesticated by humans, may be companions more often than not, nowadays, but they are relatives of wolves, too. They were hunters first, vicious and wild, before we taught them to be soft and sweet and small (and even then, Kyoutani was none of these).

Shigeru, however, did not feel like prey. He stood tall before the shifter, and repeated, “I am in charge of this forest. I cannot let you wreak havoc as you please.”

Kyoutani glared ever more fiercely, but this was a battle Shigeru knew he could win, so he met the shifter head on. For a tense minute, nothing happened.

And then Kyoutani backed down (quite literally, too-- he took a step backward, giving Shigeru room to breathe). “Fine.”

“I can help you,” Shigeru said, voice softening ever so slightly. “But I cannot do that without knowing what you need.”

“Help,” Kyoutani scoffed. But he looked thoughtful, eyes trained in the direction he’d sent the wolf pup in. He hesitated. “D’you mean it, dryad?”

Shigeru nodded. “I do.” And in his voice there was steel, firm and strong and unrelenting. “If there is help I can give, it is yours, but I cannot know for sure if you don't tell me anything.”

“I'll think about it,” Kyoutani said, turning away. “If you got the cloak an’ my pup is safe, I’ve done what I needed to tonight. I'll be back tomorrow.”

And with that, he was gone, back into the forest.

Shigeru sighed heavily. He would have to warn the remaining shifters. Hopefully they wouldn't fuss too much.

/////

Kyoutani was back early the next evening, when the sun had barely dipped below the horizon. Shigeru was deep in conversation with Watari, discussing… well, Kyoutani himself, actually.

“Ah, Kyoutani-kun!”

A furrow appeared between Kyoutani’s brows as he frowned, bristling. “How do you know my name?”

“Irihata-san let it slip,” Shigeru admitted easily. “Come here then, Watari agreed to bring the pelt back to whoever you took it from.”

Watari, kind as always, smiled sweetly at the shifter and hovered over to meet him. “Hello, I'm Watari Shinji, pleased to meet you.” He held out a hand, and though Kyoutani glanced at it as if it would burn him for a few seconds (it looked it, of course, since Watari was a creature like flame, but it didn't  _ actually  _ burn-- like most of Watari’s magic, it was just illusionary), he did eventually take it and gave it a firm shake.

“Kyoutani Kentarou.”

Watari grinned wider. “Well, Kyoutani-kun, I believe you and Shigeru have things to discuss? I can take the pelt for you.”

“You’re a will-o-wisp,” Kyoutani observed, tilting his head like a slightly puzzled dog-- which was exactly what he was, Shigeru supposed. It was almost… cute.

“I am.” Unlike Shigeru, Watari didn't feel the need to add in a barb every chance he got, which probably explained why people tended to like him better. Not that Shigeru would ever admit that to Watari’s face.

“Hm.” Kyoutani seemed to consider that, but he held out the pelt easily, this one belonging to a young hart who lived near the edge of Shigeru’s domain. 

Watari took it from him, looking it over. “Ah, you cleaned it after all! I’ll just take this straight to Takeru then,” he said. With a wave, he was off, leaving Shigeru and Kyoutani to their own devices. 

I’m sure you know what it's like to be in an awkward silence-- when you don't quite know what to say but you feel like you ought to say  _ something _ , even if it's just something inane like  _ nice weather we’re having today _ or  _ how have you been as of late _ . That was how Shigeru felt, right then, but before he could speak…

“You don't need to.”

“Huh?”

“You don't need to help,” Kyoutani clarified. “I'll stop taking from your forest, so you can leave us be.” He started to leave. 

“W-wait just a second!” Shigeru reached out and yanked him back by the wrist. Caught off guard, Kyoutani stumbled backward, nearly tripping before he regained his feet beneath him. 

“What the  _ fuck,  _ dryad? I jus’ said I don't need your help and I won't be bothering you anymore. Shouldn't you be-- I dunno-- happy?”

“Why do you think that?” What kind of person did Kyoutani take him for? Shigeru was… actually confused by this. “You seemed almost willing to accept it last night, toward the end of our conversation. What caused you to change your mind?”

“I said I would  _ consider  _ it, dryad. I did. I found it unnecessary.” Kyoutani snatched back his arm with a growl from his throat, glaring at Shigeru.

“Sure you did,” he scoffed. “That's why you look even worse off today than yesterday.” 

Kyoutani raised his eyebrows, which Shigeru thought ridiculous. Did he not really see how beat up he was? With a click of his tongue, Shigeru snatched up Kyoutani’s hand again and shoved the sleeve of his yukata up to his shoulder. “Look, you have so many new wounds, and-- have you cleaned them at  _ all? _ ” Shigeru demanded, as the action revealed that many of the freshly scabbed over scrapes and cuts were smudged with dirt and mud. “Are you  _ aiming  _ for an infection?”

“I said I was  _ fine. _ ” If Kyoutani were in his dog form right then, he likely would have snapped his teeth, or at the very least bared them. Shigeru remained unfazed, even when Kyoutani jerked away from the touch. “My welfare is hardly your business, even if the theft is.”

Shigeru ignored this. “We need to wash these before something rots your arm off. Come on.” With that, Shigeru walked off towards the stream, trusting Kyoutani would follow.

He did.

/////

When they got to the stream, apparently resigned to his fate, Kyoutani loosened his obi so he could slip the top half of his yukata off, sitting himself on a rock near the water’s edge. Shigeru had forgotten to bring a cloth to wipe Kyoutani down with, so he was forced to resort to cupping water in his hands and pouring it over Kyoutani’s skin, rubbing gently at the grime until it came away. “What do you even  _ do  _ with these skins, to get so battered?” Shigeru muttered, scrubbing with his fingers at a particularly stubborn stain.

“‘S’none of your business, dryad.”

“I have a  _ name _ . And anyway, I'm a hamadryad, not just a dryad-- there's a difference.” Shigeru wondered if maybe he could use Kyoutani’s obi instead of his bare hands, and then fashion a belt of sorts from vines or something similar-- but a glance at obi revealed what he had feared it would-- it was far dirtier than even the wounds were, and using it to clean would likely be counterproductive. Shigeru sighed.

“Well, how am I s’pposed to call you by name if I don't know it?” Kyoutani grumbled. “Unlike you, I don't go snooping around, askin’ ‘bout other people I don't know.”

Shigeru blinked. And then he laughed, the sound like rustling leaves and branches, like the crackle of wood in a hearth-- warm and cool all at once, sweet and comforting and… It is a difficult sound to describe. I’m sure you think it sounded inhuman and odd-- and it did, just a little. But it was far from unpleasant... “You could have asked me. It’s Yahaba. Yahaba Shigeru.” He paused to take Kyoutani’s other arm to give it the same treatment. “Don't think I'm going to let that question go, by the way.”

“Don't think I'm going to answer you, then.”

Shigeru shook his head. “Sorry,” he said, as Kyoutani winced. He’d put too much pressure on a bruise, Shigeru thought. “This dirt is simply almost as stubborn as you.”

That earned him a snort, and the slightest quirk of the corners of Kyoutani’s mouth. Shigeru couldn't help but be delighted by it-- he looked like he had a nice smile, this shifter did.

“You should answer me. I told you, I can help.”

“Would you drop it?” Was Shigeru imagining it, or was there less vitriol than exasperation in his tone this time? “I told you, I won't go stealin’ from your forest anymore. Don't need you.”

“You do too, Kyoutani.”

“ _ Tch _ .”

“Fine,” Shigeru conceded, rolling his eyes. “ _ You _ do not require my aid, but those wolf pups of yours-- do  _ they _ not?”

“I’ve got it handled, dry-- Yahaba. Quit tryin’ to order me around. I know what I'm doing.”

“I never said you did not.” 

“Then what the fuck do you call what you just did?”

“Asking a question, Kyoutani,” Shigeru said dryly. “You know how to do that, do you not?”

“Fuck off.”

Finished with Kyoutani’s arms, Shigeru hesitated. Should he move on to the shifter’s chest? There was plenty of mud there too, but… was that all right? He raised his gaze to meet Kyoutani’s, but all he could glean from the man’s expression was something akin to a challenge.

Oh, he was definitely going to do this now.

Shigeru bent to gather more water in his palms, tipping it slowly onto Kyoutani’s chest. “Lie back a little,” he instructed. The shifter, surprisingly, did as he was told, and Shigeru forced himself to ignore how his golden skin glistened in the sunlight, forced himself to not think about the warmth of the body beneath his fingers or how the corded muscle jumped slightly under his touch as he washed away the grime. “How do you get this dirty even under your clothes?” he mumbled, not expecting a serious answer.

Kyoutani clicked his tongue. “Shit happens.” A moment of silence passed as Kyoutani seemed to mull over his next words, chewing on them like resin in his teeth. “Especially when you're fleeing from some angry humans.”

“Why on earth would you need to do such a thing?” Shigeru asked, incredulous.

A grunt.

“Hey now,” Shigeru said, nudging him gently. “You can't just say that and then not elaborate.”

“I can,” insisted Kyoutani. “Just did, too.”

Shigeru fixed him with a withering glare, held it for about three seconds, and then returned to his work. He sighed. He could hardly force Kyoutani to do anything, and really, it probably wasn't any of his business. If Kyoutani didn't want the help, Shigeru need not give it. In fact, he should probably leave the shifter alone. It was no skin off Shigeru’s back if he chose not to do anything for Kyoutani, after all.

But he wanted to help-- he wasn't sure why he wanted to so badly, but he did.

“Do you have any cleaner yukatas?” Shigeru asked, as he worked to clean the last smudge of dirt, down by Kyoutani’s hip. “I don't want the dirt from this one to ruin all my hard work.”

“Don't you think I woulda been wearing a different one if I had one?”

Ah. So he’d guessed right about that. Shigeru sighed. “It can't be helped, I suppose. Come along. I have a few I could spare. They might turn out to be a little long on you, but it should be fine.”

Kyoutani grumbled something unintelligible, standing and marching off into the woods without bothering to fix his clothes. “You comin’, then?”

“Hold on, shouldn’t it be me saying that?” Shigeru cried, chasing after him.

/////

Shigeru wound up giving him three yukatas and an extra obi-- all plain, in the pale colors he preferred: white and aquamarine and pastel yellow. “I can get more,” he said.

Kyoutani had tried to fight him about it, first. He’d staunchly refused to accept the aid until Shigeru snapped at him about wasting all the effort he’d made washing the shifter’s wounds, and while he snapped back that it was Shigeru’s own fault for expending his energy, Kyoutani gave in and took the clothes. 

“Let me help you and your pups,” Shigeru said, for the umpteenth time that day.

“Shit,” Kyoutani muttered, also for the umpteenth time, “You really know how to hold on to something, don't ya?”

“You’re one to talk,” retorted Shigeru, wrinkling his nose in contempt. “Just accept it already. You know you cannot do without it.”

“I can and I  _ will _ .”

Kyoutani growled low in his throat, and before Shigeru’s eyes, he began to change forms. And then he was gone, leaping through the woods and to wherever it was he called home.

Shigeru sighed. Well. If Kyoutani refused to answer his questions, there was someone else who would. It was time for another visit to Irihata.

/////

“So you chose to return after all.”

Shigeru nodded. “I did, Irihata-san. I want to help him, if I am able, but he simply will not tell me anything.”

“So you came to me?”

“You told me last time I was here that you would tell me about him, as long as I swore not to turn the knowledge you bestowed on me against him-- I am swearing that now.” Shigeru bowed his head in deference. When he spoke, his voice was as clear as the water of Irihata’s domain. “Please. I want to help him. I swear this oath on the strength of my roots, the bark of my trunk, the leaves in my boughs. I will not hurt him.”

Irihata surfaced before him, seated cross-legged on the mirror of the nearly-still water. “And why the change of heart, child?”

“I think… I saw myself in him.”

“Ah.”

And Shigeru did not need to say anything else, because Irihata understood. The old god took a deep breath, and then he began to tell Kyoutani’s tale. 

/////

It would be tedious for me to tell you, word for word, how Irihata told it to Shigeru-- Irihata was an old god, for whom stories had always been important. The craft of telling them was even more vital to him, and so, though masterful and wonderful to hear, it was simply much too long for me to transcribe.

So it is with a heavy heart that I can only summarize it for you. Kyoutani Kentarou was a skindancer, though he was primarily a dog shifter, just as Shigeru had surmised. He had lived in a human settlement for most of his life until some neighbor or other had witnessed him shifting forms, and, terrified, had called the others to arms. 

At first, no one listened. Kyoutani had enough of a temper to have earned the nickname ‘Mad Dog’, but he wasn't a danger to anyone. If anything, they said, he was actually quite sweet underneath the gruffness. And so they put the rumor to rest and left him be.

Kyoutani’s parents urged him to hide his pelt and not shift until the rumors had all passed-- and at first, he listened. 

But soon, he got restless; shifters are who they are because of how they can change forms-- being unable to for any reason is akin to being suddenly unable to play that sport you’ve loved your whole life, like losing everything you've ever worked to perfect, like losing that one time of the day you looked forward to without fail. (This is why the shifters in Shigeru’s forest became so anxious without their pelts-- it was like losing a limb.)

His parents meant well, of course, but when they hid his pelt, just in case, they said, he could no longer contain himself. It was one thing to know he shouldn't, but to know he  _ couldn't _ ? To have his pelt, something so essential to his identity, somewhere he didn't know, out of his reach for an unknown stretch of time? Already anxious and stressed from having stayed in one form for too long, he flew into a rage, causing senseless destruction until he finally uncovered his skin.

Then, uncaring for the curious eyes of the onlooking townsfolk summoned by the commotion he’d created, he changed his shape and leapt out into the forest.

He swore to himself he wouldn't return.

He knew how to hunt, how to forage. For himself, he could provide easily. It wouldn't be much, but it would keep him alive. That was all he needed.

And then one night, he heard the shouts and yells of a human hunting party. Fearing that it was him they were after-- that it was his old neighbors, come for vengeance or justice or whatever it was they called it-- he hid himself in the foliage and waited until he would hear them leave.

When they did, he crept from his hiding spot and approached the remnants of the camp, hoping for scraps of supplies that he might be able to salvage. Instead, he found the corpse of a wolf and blood-spattered earth.

The wolf, he surmised, had been lured by the smell of cooked meat. Had come, perhaps, to investigate, and finding the humans asleep and hidden away in their tents, had begun rummaging for the food. The noise awoke the hunters, and outnumbered, the beast fell to their weapons, after which the men packed up in a hurry and moved camp to avoid any other potential predators.

Kyoutani spared a second to mourn the fallen creature, and then he did as he had come to do, granting the body a wide berth. He found nothing, but he was hungry and too tired to hunt further that day, and so, he approached the body and flipped it over as best he could, wondering if some scrap of whatever it had found might be hidden underneath.

There was a bone of some sort, with bits of roasted meat still clinging onto it, and Kyoutani snatched it up, devouring what little was left. It was as he had finished, as he dropped the bone to the dirt, that he saw that the wolf was-- had been-- a mother.

Kyoutani deliberated for a good long while. He couldn't hunt well enough to provide for himself  _ and  _ a whole litter of children. But he could hardly  _ not  _ look for them either… it seemed too cruel a thing to do.

/////

“So he looked for them,” Shigeru said, as Irihata wrapped up the story.

“And found them, yes, though their pack was gone,” answered the god. “He steals from the town what he can't catch and find on his own, but somewhere along the way they learned to recognize him.”

It all made sense now. “Which is why he stole the pelts. So he could get in and out without being caught so early. Right?”

Irihata nodded gravely. “Exactly, Shigeru-kun.” He paused to scowl. “Though they still chase him down, when they see him, no matter his form-- who wouldn't, when what they see as a common beast is stealing off with their supplies? And because he's so unused to the forms he borrows, he gets more hurt than he otherwise would.”

Shigeru found himself mirroring Irihata’s expression. Kyoutani was a fool then, not to take the offer Shigeru was extending towards him. And why not? For pride? 

“This is ridiculous,” Shigeru muttered. “Why won't he let me help?”

Irihata’s next words were chiding. “Do you blame him for being wary? People he had known and cared for all his life betrayed him. It is not easy to let that deep a pain pass.”

“Ah. That… that is true.”

With a sigh, Shigeru pushed himself to his feet. He bowed low. “Thank you, Irihata-san. Your wisdom is a great blessing.”

“I'm not sure if a story such as that counts as wisdom,” Irihata said mildly, “But for all that, you are welcome. I hope you can help him, Shigeru-kun.”

“As do I.”

/////

Irihata pointed Shigeru in the right direction, and the hamadryad soon came to a little cave in Oikawa’s wood, the entrance hidden by a curtain of ivy.

There he knew he would find the wolf puppies-- and Kyoutani himself. 

“You,” growled Kyoutani, pushing aside the vines and emerging from the maw of the cavern. “How did you--”

He cut himself with a frustrated sound, pinching the bridge of his nose with one hand, the other balling up into a fist at his side. “Irihata-san,  _ why _ ,” he demanded, as if the god might hear him so far from his pool.

“Because you need me.” Shigeru glowered at him, stepping closer. “I know why you always look so battered, Kyoutani, and you cannot keep doing this to yourself. You need help, and you should just--”

“What the fuck would you know,” snarled the shifter, whirling so his back was to Shigeru. “Go home, this isn't your burden to carry.”

Shigeru narrowed his eyes further and crossed the few feet between them. “Why?” Before Kyoutani could even unclench his jaw to answer, Shigeru seized him by the arm, slamming him into the side of the cave. From inside, he could hear the growling of the wolf pups, angry on their adoptive father's behalf, but Shigeru didn't care. “Why is it not my burden? Because they aren't my pups? By that logic, they aren't  _ your _ burden to carry either.”

Kyoutani seemed either too stunned or too confused to respond immediately, and Shigeru’s other hand came up, so that he was clutching at both the shifter’s shoulders. He shook him once. “You can go ahead and fuck up your own life, that I cannot control,” he said lowly, “But I  _ will not _ sit by and allow you to make these creatures suffer for your measly ego. If one of these pups should starve or grow ill because you couldn't humble yourself enough to take the aid you so desperately need…” Shigeru’s fingers tightened their grip. A warning. “I will hunt you down myself.”

Shigeru relinquished his hold on Kyoutani then, moving back so there was space between them once more. The shifter’s chest heaved with a breath he hadn't meant to hold, as if Shigeru being so close had erased any oxygen between them, and only now was there breathable air again in reach. 

“You know where to find me, Kyoutani-kun. I hope to see you again soon.”

And then Shigeru was gone.

/////

There was nothing left for Shigeru to do but wait. If Kyoutani heeded Shigeru’s advice and finally gave in, or if he chose to put his hubris first… only time would tell.

A week passed with no word. Shigeru was more than let down, but as Kyoutani said, it technically was not his issue to solve-- and so, he went about fulfilling his normal obligations, and lost no sleep over Kyoutani and his litter of wolves.

And then, one evening, he was there, head held high, eyes narrowed as if daring Shigeru to make a big deal out of it. He looked worse for wear, definitely; thinner, with bags under his eyes instead of his usual kohl. The puppies were fast asleep, curled around his feet like they’d dropped as soon as he’d allowed them to. They, too, looked a little leaner, but then again, Shigeru couldn't be sure, having only seen one of them before.

For a moment, Kyoutani said nothing. Then: “If you're still willin’... I guess I really can't do this forever.” His voice was gruff, but there was a genuine plea, in there, for all the pride it was buried in. He added, “I’ll do what I can to help you in return.”

And Shigeru… Shigeru smiled.

He didn't care for Kyoutani’s excuses nor his reasons for taking so long. It had never crossed the hamadryad’s mind to retract his offer of help, for all that it had been spurned the first time (or the second, or the third, or the hundredth). What he knew was that now he could do something for them-- this shifter, these pups… and that was enough.

/////

That sounds like a happy ending, doesn't it? It was, in a way. It took time for Kyoutani to acclimate to living in a community again, instead of by his own rules and time. It took time for him to learn how to talk without snapping and how to rely on others once more.

He and the pups lived near Shigeru’s clearing, and in time, Shigeru and Kyoutani grew to love each other-- first as friends, and then later as more.

Or so I’ve been told. I believe it, though.

Do you?

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on twitter and tumblr @theauthorish


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